Crossed Paths
by BarbaraB
Summary: Before Ororo Munroe was Storm, she had an encounter with one of the X-Men's deadliest enemies: Sabretooth. Updated. Chapter 9 and epilogue.
1. Part I

Disclaimer: I don t own Sabretooth or Storm, they belong to Marvel. Please, please, PLEASE sue me! I could use the attention, and it might make more people aware of fanfiction.  
  
No offense to boardwalk security, AND/OR security officers everywhere.  
  
Notes: This story is set in the Ultimate X-Men Universe, just before Ororo meets Jean Grey. You don t need to read Ultimate in order to understand the story.  
  
I ll try to put up new chapters as often as possible (there shouldn t be too many) , but I am having finals this week and I am majorly stressed out. After this week there should be more frequent posts.  
  
*  
  
* *Crossed Paths  
  
*  
  
Ororo strolled along the crowded boardwalk of a beach in Wildwood, New Jersey. This was her current haunt. She would stay here until she got bored with it, or until she got caught doing what she'did.  
  
She slipped into a crowd of people who were waiting to ride the paddleboats.  
  
Always up for a challenge, she avoided the men and women wearing backpacks and went for the ones with wallets in their pockets. Gracefully, and carefully she lifted the leather parcel from the older man's shorts. Her blue eyes appeared to be on the happy people in the boats, but instead she was watching the man's bald spot, and her ears were listening for threats.  
  
Ororo put the beat up brown wallet in the pocket of her cargo pants. 'That is enough for the day.' She thought, and headed for a less crowded area of the boardwalk. She went down the wooden steps and onto the beach making sure no one was watching her she slipped under the boardwalk.  
  
Ororo took the wallets from her various pockets and emptied them. She only wanted the cash and the change. She could care less about the credit cards.  
  
'Almost six-hundred dollars in tens, twenties, fives and fifties.' She left the wallets there.  
  
Some kids would probably find them.  
  
She stepped back onto the boardwalk and dove into the closest fast food line, noticing that the sun was going down.  
  
Victor Creed stood on the balcony of one of the many hotels around the boardwalk. This particular hotel was across the street from the beach. His view of the boardwalk was blocked by the beachfront shops. He could, however see up one of the small side streets that connected the boardwalk to the busy intersection. He flicked the cigarette he had been smoking to the ground below.  
  
A group of loud teenagers hung out in the side street. Victor's sensitive ears picked up everything they said. He listened, but nothing they talked about interested him. They mostly made fun of the tourists and jabbered on and on about things that made him roll his eyes.  
  
He was bored, but he preferred to go out when it was dark.  
  
A black girl who looked to be around the same age as the kids he'd been listening to, rounded the corner and started up the small street. The boys in the group nudged each other. The girls glared enviously. Victor wasn't surprised in the least bit when the boys began to bark, whistle, and yell undecipherable phrases at her all at once.  
  
'How original.' She thought, listening to the local boys behind her. She headed for the hotel she had been staying in for the past few nights. Ororo felt an extra set of eyes on her, which is never good when one is a thief. She looked up and met the small black eyes of a man with muscular tattooed arms. He stood on the balcony of a room  
  
in the hotel in which she was staying.  
  
~~  
  
Ororo let herself into her room, and put the brass security lock on. She'dropped her backpack on the desk, then emptied her pockets. She flopped onto the bed, and fell asleep.  
  
~~  
  
When Ororo woke up it was morning. She hadn't intended to sleep so long. She liked to be up before families staying in the hotel got up. If she wasn't seen, she wasn't there.  
  
It was easier to blend in with the crowds on the boardwalk. She'didn't think too much about it though.  
  
She took a shower and put on clean clothes: cut off shorts and a sky blue  
  
T-shirt.  
  
She grabbed the money from the nightstand along with the key and her backpack and left the room. She never rode in elevators, they were to cramped. She took the stairs instead.  
  
When she got about halfway down the metal staircase, she was surprised to see the man from the day before coming her way.  
  
When she saw him her heart sped up. He moved with the grace of a cat, but didn't exactly give off "Hello Kitty"  
  
vibes. Even though he wore boots, she couldn't hear him coming. He was looking up at her, and as he turned and started up the next flight he didn't take his eyes off her.  
  
His blonde hair was long and wild. His face was serious. She couldn't fathom what he would look like if he smiled. Now that she was closer to him, and she wasn't sure if that was good thing, she could see that his eyes were all black.  
  
He had no visible whites.  
  
She held his stare for a moment longer, but looked away as she passed him. She could feel he heat coming off of his body. She could still see him out of her peripheral vision, and if he made any sudden movements she would make a break for it.  
  
When she was just about to lose complete sight of him, she looked up to see that he was still watching her. He was.  
  
The girl was now out of his field of vision, but not out of his earshot. He listened to her. She put on a good show. When she spotted him she'didn't miss a step. He didn't see the smallest hint of surprise on her face, but he heard her pulse and breathing quicken. He watched her look him over, sizing him up, but little did she know he was sizing her up too. He noticed how she became lighter on her feet, like she was preparing for an attack. He could tell by the way she showed him no fear, and by the length of time she held his glare, then looked away in an unconscious gesture of respect, that she had long been on the streets. He'd known that since yesterday when first he saw her.  
  
She was here alone, and she was staying on the floor above him.  
  
He followed her scent to the last room, on the left side. He opened the door using the key he had gotten from one of the cleaning ladies. She'd slept in one of the beds, but it didn't look like it.  
  
She hadn't even touched the TV.  
  
He went into the bathroom. Beads of water sliding down the shower curtain and into the tub, and a wet sink were the  
  
only visible sign that she had been there.  
  
He figured she'didn't want anyone to know she had been there. She'd probably acquired a key that opened all the rooms like he did. He sniffed the room some more than dropped to his knees by the bed. He reached all the way under and pulled out a medium sized gray duffle bag. He opened it: Clothes, all folded neatly, a pair of black boots, a passport?.  
  
He opened it.  
  
Her name was Ororo Munroe, she hadn't been seventeen for long, and she was from Africa. He put the passport back.  
  
There were a few other things in the bag, among them a knife that he didn't bother to unsheathe, a one-hundred dollar bill, and a gold Rolex.  
  
He put the bag back where he found it, and left.  
  
~~  
  
Back in his own room, he went into the bathroom, and smiled at the cleaning lady in the bathtub. Her head stared back at him from the toilet.  
  
"Sorry, I gotta get rid o' ya, hon, but what will my guest think if she sees you here?"  
  
That evening Ororo sat on a bench eating an apple she'd gotten earlier from the hotel. She watched a woman who'd just bought a hamburger, fold up her money and put it in her pants pocket. Ororo stood up and casually walked by taking the woman's wallet from her pants pocket, and dropped it into her bag.  
  
Heading for the less crowded end of the boardwalk, she paused and looked around.  
  
She gasped when she saw the man from that morning coming out of one of the side streets that she'd just passed.  
  
She quickly ducked under the boardwalk. She'didn't think he saw her.  
  
She sighed, looking out over the beach.  
  
"Put your hands where I can see them."  
  
Ororo cursed herself for getting careless. She put her hands behind her head and turned around to face the officer.  
  
She smiled inwardly realizing that it was only Boardwalk Security.  
  
No gun.  
  
He was probably making his rounds; just a routine check under the boardwalk.  
  
"You came here to smoke or drink?"  
  
"Neither sir."  
  
"You came under here to pee?"  
  
"No sir."  
  
"You meeting some boy down here?"  
  
She thought about that, "Yes sir."  
  
"It's not safe for a pretty girl like you to be here. There's been a drastic rise in missing person reports in the past few week. I don't want to see you down here again. Wait up there for your friend." He said, pointing up with his flashlight.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
The officer went back to what he was doing.  
  
She laughed to herself, 'A likely story' she thought. 'Perhaps the only way to keep kids from hanging out under the boardwalk is to scare them. There are probably no more missing people than usual here.'  
  
"Young lady?"  
  
She looked back.  
  
"Watch your bag too, there s also been a rise in theft. " ~~  
  
All Victor saw was the girl's white hair disappearing under the walk.  
  
She'd seen him first.  
  
He started to follow her, but was stopped by a sunburned geek, carrying an orange surfboard, "Dude, where'd you get those tats'? I mean, like did you get them here?" The kid said, and then began to babble nervously, when Victor didn't answer. "They're awesome, like, y'know, like, and I was just wondering...I didn't mean to bother you, du-sir. Sorry."  
  
There was a long pause, "C-Can I go?"  
  
Victor bared his teeth at the surfer, and pushed him out of the way.  
  
He headed for the edge of the boardwalk closest to where he thought she was.  
  
He started to jump over the railing, but the girl came out from under him and onto the boardwalk. He turned his back to her. She'didn't see him.  
  
Victor watched her walk away from him.  
  
She was skinny, but not too skinny.  
  
She stood in line and bought a drink.  
  
He wondered where she got the money. He hadn't smelled anyone's direct scent on her yesterday or today, so she wasn't a hooker. Maybe she was a thief.  
  
She walked further down and he did too. He kept his eyes on her.  
  
Besides the hair, to a normal person she looked like your average teenager: T-shirt, shorts, backpack, semi expensive sneakers.  
  
She carefully and quickly lifted a wallet from someone s pocket.  
  
He was right; she was a thief, and a pretty good one since no one said anything.  
  
The faintest hint of a smile could be seen on his face. Maybe he wouldn't kill her right away.  
  
After picking up a few things at one of the shops, she headed for the hotel.  
  
When she got to her room she sat cross-legged on the bed. She took her portable CD player from her backpack, and  
  
popped in the CD she'd just bought. Next, she dumped the wallets she'd lifted onto the bed.  
  
She counted up the money and put it away. After getting rid of the wallets she fell asleep listening to the music.  
  
He listened. She was sleeping, and there was some kind of garbage playing on a radio.  
  
Sliding the key card through the slot, he slowly opened the door, but didn't get very far because she'd put the latch on.  
  
He shut the door, and then opened it quickly, pulling the screws from the door jam. He shut the door behind him. Ororo heard nothing.  
  
She was sleeping in the bed furthest from the door.  
  
~~  
  
Almost an hour later Victor's eyes widened.  
  
Her eyes never fluttered, but just the pitch of her breathing told him she was awake.  
  
He was perched at the foot of the bed on top of the bureau.  
  
He was ready to pounce the second she started to scream, but she'didn't.  
  
Before Victor could react, there was blood - his blood - soaking his shirt, and a screaming pain above his right arm.  
  
Outside there was a crack of lightning that split the clouds, and the pavement below, illuminating the room for a  
  
fraction of a second.  
  
He leapt onto the bed sweeping her long legs out from under her, landing with a knee on her chest. One hand pinned  
  
her arms behind her back, while his weaker hand closed around her neck.  
  
He looked down at the knife in his shoulder, and quickly pulled it out with his teeth. The ripped shirt allowed Ororo to see the wound heel.  
  
"For future reference kid, your heart is on the left side." He whispered, harshly.  
  
Before Victor could make his next move the hotel room door flew open, and beams landed on him.  
  
Victor jumped off the bed and rose to his full height, towering over the security officers.  
  
He growled, bared his fangs at them.  
  
The sound of the balcony door opening caught his attention, and he remembered the girl.  
  
Ororo didn't even waste time sparing a glance to see who her attacker was.  
  
She threw her bags onto the pavement below.  
  
Climbing over the iron fence, and hanging from her hands she swung herself onto the next balcony down.  
  
She repeated the move until she reached the ground, where she grabbed her bags and ran off into the night.  
  
TBC...  
  
So what do you think? R/R please. Part II is finished, but I want to finish part III before I  
  
post it. Don t worry I m almost done though. I m not sure if I should go NC- 17 with this  
  
fic, or not. Lemme know what you think. 


	2. Part II

Sorry it took so long y'all. The next part will be posted Friday.   
**GO SIXERS!**  
  
Ororo sat on a barstool in a dark pool hall. She watched the different games taking place.  
They were mostly beer-gutted men in dirty t-shirts with the sleeves ripped off, dirty pants, and dirty work  
boots, whose opponents were guys with mullets, in flannels, Wrangler blue jeans, and cowboy boots.  
There were eleven other men in the bar who were not involved in a game. They sat at the bar and in  
booths. A pool table was freed when a few guys left, and seeing that no one else was interested a bored  
Ororo found a cue and half-heartedly began to shoot around.  
She could feel a presence behind her and she clenched the cue-stick, turning around.  
"We're goin' need this table, darlin."  
She went back to her game. "I will be done soon." She said straining away her accent.  
"I tried to be nice." The man snatched the cue from her.  
"That's not right Paulie, why don't you play the girl for it." The bartender yelled.  
Paulie looked at Ororo, he rolled his eyes, "Rack 'em."  
Ororo racked the balls and rolled the white ball to Paulie.  
He barely gave her a chance to lift the triangle off before he broke.  
Ororo found a new cue, and easily knocked a solids into a pocket.  
Paulie's friends booed her. She missed her next shot.  
Paulie's next shot put the white ball in a corner pocket, a scratch.  
Five minutes later there were two striped balls, the eight ball, and the white ball still on the table.  
Ororo had finished knocking her balls into the various pockets, and was now going for the eight ball. This  
would be a tough shot. She had to bounce the white ball off of the side in order to knock the eight ball into  
the pocket.  
Just as she went for the shot. Paulie purposefully knocked his beer onto the concrete below smashing it.  
Ororo missed.  
Paulie was lining up his next shot, "green ball, side pocket," and he did just that.  
Ororo was standing with her chin resting on folded hands on the tip of the cue stick. She angrily clenched  
her teeth. She knew that he had distracted her on purpose.  
She could see that for his next shot he was going to try and sink both his last striped ball and the eight  
ball. When he cocked his arm back and let it go, she grabbed a bottle from the bar and smashed it at his  
feet. He missed his shot.  
Now that she had gotten her payback, a satisfied Ororo sunk the eight ball into the right corner pocket.  
She emptied each of the six netted pockets and racked the balls again.  
"Thanks." Paulie said. He and his friends gathered around the table as if they were about to play a game.  
Paulie put a hand on her shoulder, "Say, if you wanna wait around for us to finish. We can go have some  
fun afterwards." They all laughed.  
"You must be mistaken, I won. You are welcome to play with me, but I will have this table." She said  
sweetly.  
He laughed, leaning forward, and blowing stinking beer breath into her face. "Your funny, darlin'. How  
'bout you stand on the bar and tell us jokes?" He said, and with a push, sent her to the cigarette laden  
floor, landing on her backside and hands in the shattered glass.  
The men guffawed, and he broke.  
She looked at her bloody palms.  
Ororo stood up and in a fit of rage broke her cue stick over Paulie's thick dirty neck.  
He whirled, grabbing for her. She was quick, but he grabbed a handful of her backpack. She wriggled out  
of it.  
Paulie dumped it on to the floor, "My wallet!" He said surprised when it along with three others fell out.  
His friends recognized their own wallets and advanced on Ororo, armed with their cues and fists.  
"Take it outside!" The bartender shouted.  
The other people in the bar told them to stop from where they stood, or sat, but did not intervene.  
'Shit' Ororo thought, she was in another bad situation because of her temper. She would have to get  
control of that if she didn't want anyone to discover that she was a mutant. She could already hear the  
lightening outside. She was backed against the bar. Snatched her bag back and jumped up onto it and ran  
down it toward the door.  
Victor wandered up the dark street, when there was a boom of thunder that was prelude to an immediate  
downpour. The wind picked up and threatened to send all two-hundred, seventy-five pounds of him  
tumbling back down the hill he'd just climbed.  
He saw that he was coming upon a bar/pool hall. 'I could use a beer.' He thought, opening the door and  
went down the steps.  
About half way down the steps he stopped sniffing the air, "Impossible." he thought, but his actions belied  
his word as he anxiously descended the last of the steps.  
Jumping down off of the bar she swung open the door and prepared to take the steps as many at a time as  
she could.  
Instead she slammed into a brick wall.  
Once again she fell onto her butt. The grime stinging the wounds on her hands. She shook her head free  
of clouds, and looked up at the man staring down at her.  
"Thanks, buddy." Paulie said, as he and his friends picked her up. "Didn't think it would be that easy did  
ya, ya little tramp." She thrashed, but one of the men had her arm pinned tightly behind her back.  
"What are you gonna do with'er?" Victor asked. Never taking his eyes off of her.  
"I don't know man. See, she thieved a few wallets here, and caused some other trouble. I don't know if I  
want to call the cops or take care of her myself." Paulie said with a wink.  
Victor didn't even try to bargain with the man for the girl. He simply backhanded the guy holding her, his  
claws leaving long scratches down the side of his face. He pushed two of them over the bar, and the last  
guy, the spokesman just threw up his hands in a "You win" gesture, and stared at Creed as he paid for a  
beer and left with the girl following him.  
When they got outside the rain was very gradually letting up, and the wind had died down. Ororo watched  
the man walk away drinking down his beer.  
"You comin'?" He asked, indifferently looking over his shoulder at her, but quickly walking away.  
She watched uncertainly as he walked away from her, wondering what was next.  
So there was a god, and he was on Victor's side. Too bad for her. Here it was almost a month later, three  
states south of where they'd first encountered each other. He listened to her breathing: Cautious and  
hesitant, but heavy and tired. She did look thinner. He thought about what he was going to do with her,  
Ororo. He didn't know, but one thing was for sure though. He was not letting her go.  
Maybe he'd just keep her around for awhile.  
There was a whimper followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground (and Victor knew what that  
sounded like). He turned to see the girl laying in a damp heap. He went back to her and gathered her in  
his arms.  
tbc  
PHILADELPHIA  
76ERS 


	3. Part III

Note: I read your question about why was Victor stalking Ororo. I was going to answer it, but it just didn't  
fit in this part. It's not like it is along answer. I just rather answer it in the fic just in case someone else  
reads it and wonders about that also.  
  
Ororo threw the covers off of herself, and quickly jumped out of bed.  
She vaguely remembered fainting on the street, while deciding whether to follow *him*.  
Remembering the scene she'd made at the bar she looked at her palms, which were bandaged and no  
longer aching so badly.  
She kept calm, and examined the room she was in. It was small with little furniture. The room had one  
window, and judging by the light that was coming in through it; the time was early evening.  
There were two doors.  
She opened the one closest to her, opposite the window. It lead out into the rest of what she now knew was  
an apartment. Behind the other door was a bathroom with another door on the other side. After splashing  
her face with water she opened it. It too led out into the apartment. She exited the bathroom stepping into  
the den.  
There was a dirty brown couch, a small television, and a counter that separated the den from the kitchen.  
Ororo was alone in the apartment. If *he* had intended to hurt her wouldn't he have done it already? Not  
fearing for her safety, she let her thoughts turn to her stomach. Goddess she was hungry, and was that  
food she smelled? She followed her nose into the kitchen.  
Her eyes landed on the bucket of chicken sitting on the stove. Only taking the time to smell it first, a habit  
she picked up when she was at home back in Cairo, she jumped up on the counter, legs folded Indian style  
with the bucket in her lap.  
When Victor approached the apartment door he heard the moving around inside. It was about  
time. She had been sleep for under twenty hours. He had spent most of that time waiting for the tenant to  
come home.   
He'd just come from disposing of the body and almost all evidence that the man had lived there, including  
his dog. One thing he did keep was the guy's car. He needed that to ensure that he dumped the body parts  
and got back before the girl woke up.   
When Victor turned the door knob, and entered the apartment, he was surprised to see her staring at him  
from her seat on the counter top, eating the chicken that the man had brought home with him.  
He tossed the keys on the couch, and went into the bathroom. He rinsed the blood from his hands, flushing  
the toilet for good measure. When he came out her eyes fixed on him again. Victor ignored her, walking  
past her and looking in the refrigerator to see what the poor guy left him. 'What the hell kinda guy drinks  
Zima? What the hell kinda person drinks that shit?' he thought, shifting them so that he could see what  
else there was. There was nothing that he was interested in at the moment. He turned around to see that  
Ororo had shifted herself so that she could watch Victor some more. She cocked an eyebrow at him and  
held out the bucket to him.  
He took it from her. She observed as he took a bite and swallowed it without chewing. He leaned on the  
refrigerator staring back at her.  
"Who are you?" She asked. He could hear her accent clearly for the first time.  
"My name is Victor."  
They ate in silence for a while before she asked her next question, "So are you a mutant or what?"  
He nodded.  
"You were in the military?" She gestured to his dog tags.  
"CIA."  
"What's your name?" He asked, although he already knew.  
"I am Ororo." She scooted off of the counter, and stretched. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"   
He gestured toward the bathroom.   
She nodded, unbraiding her hair and letting it fall down her back.  
Seconds later he heard the shower come on.  
It gave Ororo the creeps that she kept running into the guy when they were at the beach, and now  
she'd literally ran into him again. What were the chances? He seemed nice enough though. He'd saved  
her from those hicks. Who knows what they would have done. She'd leave in the morning.  
~~  
Ororo had changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Feeling thirsty, she went to the  
refrigerator and got a Zima.  
She looked at the label as she sat across the couch from Victor. She shrugged, and tried to open it. The  
cuts on her hands opened up again, and she flinched. She handed it to Victor and he opened it for her.  
"Thank you." she pressed her palms against the cold glass and after taking a sniff she took a drink.  
"Mm!" She covered her mouth with one hand, and gulped. Her eyes were open wide, and her eyebrows  
were raised to her hairline.  
"That. Is. Terrible."  
Victor laughed loudly, making the chair shake.  
Ororo looked at Victor in indignation. Her eyes whited over and in the time it took Victor to sober up, a  
rain cloud appeared over his head. It started to drizzle.  
A look of surprise crossed Victor's face than disappeared quickly, "That's all you got?"  
Ororo tried her hardest to make it pour on his smug head, but the drizzling was turning into drips, and the  
cloud was starting to shrink.  
She pouted, and Victor cackled at her again.  
"Since you find my lack of control over my powers so amusing, perhaps I should compensate with control  
over the television." She snatched the remote from him, turning from a channel somewhere in the  
mid-nineties to a news program.   
"...late twenties found dead, a half mile outside of Annapolis. Time of death was estimated at 5:20  
yesterday. A grisly combination of teeth, claw, and knife wounds, cover the victim's upper arms, face,  
torso, and thighs. Sources say the mutilation technique matches that of over fifteen others from  
Connecticut to Virginia..."   
"And they call us freaks. I'll bet they find a way to blame this on 'homo superior'."  
Victor grunted, leaning forward and changing the tv back to the Playboy channel.  
  
TBC  
  
Victor gone soft? Don't count on it. 


	4. Part IV

Sorry so short y'all. I have the story pretty much outlined (thanks to encouragement from Majestrix), but I'm having trouble writing the actual text. So be patient. I didn't want to post this, but I know how I feel when I'm waiting for new chapters from authors (hint hint to you all. Ya know who you are)  
I'm also having a little trouble keeping Victor sadistic, and crazy, and all the other bad things. If you have any suggestions you know what to do... Shove'em up...my mailbox!!! barb876@aol.com  
By the way, I'm sure you've noticed by now that I don't do paragraphs, and punctuation very well. Please excuse that. I was going through my boy crazy stage when we were learning about that stuff.   
  
It was one week later and Ororo was still alive. It wasn't meant to be like this.  
Victor's intentions on her back in New Jersey had been no different from any other kill he had made. He just hadn't counted on her   
being smarter then the average frail.   
She had no idea that he was the one who'd crept into her room that night and into her dreams, turning them into nightmares.  
Now they were living together.   
Victor was usually no procrastinater, but in this case he kept putting off her butchering until the next day.  
Ororo was growing on him like a weed. She amused him.  
It was fun for him to play pretend with her, to make up answers for the questions she asked him about himself.   
  
It was easy to take over the apartment. He didn't think the landlord cared who lived there as long as the rent was paid.   
Ororo took care of that. All the money she pulled in from pick-pocketing he could afford to buy a house.   
That's partly why he let her go out. The other reason was because he used the time she spent "out" to fulfill his homicidal urges.   
He'd earned a new nickname from the public as they discovered the bodies of his victims.   
He was now known as the Slasher.  
  
  
TBC  
  
  
  



	5. Part V

  
  
  
  
Ororo had purposely woken up early this morning.   
She had already packed up the stuff she was taking and written the note.   
It was still dark outside.  
As much as she liked Victor and appreciated all he'd done for her. It was time to go.   
She had stayed in his house and imposed on his privacy long enough. He'd never tell her he wanted  
her to leave. He was too kind. He'd probably leave so he wouldn't have to tell her she was   
making him crazy.   
She smiled at that.  
Victor didn't smile much and he sure didn't talk much, but that was because he was just shy or   
used to solitude.  
She crept out of her room with her knapsack on her back, and carrying her other bag. She put the   
note on top of the television.  
Taking one last look around, she took the locks off slowly trying not to make too much noise.  
She tried to pull the door open but it wouldn't budge.  
She put both hands on the knob bracing herself to pull. She leaned back--  
--and bumped into something solid.  
  
Ororo shrieked. She looked up at the arm that was stayed against the door, and followed it to the  
owner.   
"Victor." She breathed.  
"Ororo." He growled, and for the first time she noticed his fangs.  
"What are you doing up?"  
"I guess I should be asking you the same."  
"I was leaving."  
"Were ya?" He said, conversationally.  
"Yes, I-I thought I would give you back your apartment."  
"So you were just going to leave without saying anything?"  
"I left a note. It's on the television."  
Victor went over and grabbed it then returned to where he was. He skimmed through the letter,   
checked to make sure there was nothing on the other side, then let it flutter to the floor.   
"Awfully nice of you to leave some money and extra food."   
"It's the least I can do."  
"Go back to bed. You ain't leavin' no time soon."  
"Don't make this hard for me."  
"Yer leaving 'cause you think yer a pain in the ass, right?"  
She nodded.  
"Yer okay for now. You'll definitely know when your time is up."   
"Promise?"  
"I swear it." His words were truer than she knew.  
Ororo sighed, "Thank you. I didn't really want to go." She headed back toward her room.  
"Hey, Ro?"  
"You were just gonna take my car?"  
She stopped and turned, a slightly embarrassed smile playing on her lips, "Well, you never use   
it. I do. So I figured you wouldn't miss it and -"  
He held up a hand, "Once a car thief always a car thief."  
She fished around for the keys in her pocket, and tossed them to him.   
"I'll keep these for a while. You don't even have a license."  



	6. Part VI

Thanks to all who have reviewed, and Thanks to Majestrix for the beta.  
  
~~~~~~~  
Part VI  
  
The next day, Victor had been home for a while, before Ororo got there.   
There was a knock on the door. He hesitated to answer, but when he did, he was surprised at who   
was on the other side.  
Ororo had been riding the escalator in a crowded department store, when a hand landed on her   
shoulder. An undercover policeman had see her hands dipping in and out of the purses and pockets   
of the people in front of her. They took her into a back room in the store and then brought her   
back to the apartment.  
"What's the problem?" Victor said after opening the door.  
"I understand you are the guardian of this child?"   
"...Yeah." He looked down at Ororo. She   
looked away.  
"I caught her pickpocketing...."  
  
Soon the officer left. Satisfied with Victor's concerned parent act, he gave Ororo yet another   
"Don't let us catch you again" speech, and turned her over to him.  
Victor watched the man walk down the hall. As soon as the officer was out of sight he slammed   
the door and turned furiously. She took a stunned step back and he lunged at her, growling and   
wrapping his hand around her throat, cutting off her air, and digging his claws into her skin.   
His speed was unbelievable for a man his size, and his looks changed from passive but intense,   
to wild and still intense.  
When she felt the conciousness start to drain. She lifted her knees to her chest, and pressed   
the bottom of her shoes against his stomach, and pushed him away. She fell to the floor coughing.  
  
Ororo quickly skittered into the bedroom locking the door behind her, but failing to get to the  
other. He burst through the unlocked door, and pushed her into the bed. She fell back onto it   
and backed up.  
He grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs out from under her pinning her under himself, raising   
a claw above the both of them.  
"Victor...I-I-I'm sorry. J-Just stop."  
Before she knew it the apartment door slammed shut, and she was alone.  
  
  
She sat up quickly, disoriented and alarmed. It was still dark out. She flopped back down, elbow   
in the air, hand on her forehead. This was not the first time she'd had this nightmare.   
They had been recurrent in the last week or two. The dream was a recount of that last night in   
New Jersey. That had been an eye opener, reminding her that she could never be too careful.   
The door opened and shut quietly jarring her from her thoughts. She remembered the events that   
took place that evening. She put her arm down and shut her eyes, listening to the water come on   
in the bathroom as Victor washed up like he always did.   
The room door opened quietly, and he came in.  
"I knew you were awake before I came in. Get up." He said turning on the light.  
She sat up, squinting in the bright light, and scooted back to the headboard.  
  
"I'm sorry I flipped out... earlier. I... was just... angry when I saw that you'd brought a cop   
here."   
She lowered her head, asking quietly, "Why would you be angry?"   
"Look," He walked over to the window and stared out of it, "A few years back, when I was still   
in the CIA, I... I did somethings that I'm not proud of." With his back to her, he rolled his   
eyes. "My partner was murdered in a conspiracy against Me an' him. 'Cause we were the mutants,   
y'know. They planned to put it all on me. Blame me for 'is death. When I found out I lost it...I  
just completely...lost it. I wasted them all. Eleven guys, and two ladies." Ororo gasped.   
"They've been looking for me ever since."   
He hung his head and shook it slowly, running his hands through his knotted locks.   
All for dramatic affect.  
He turned and looked everywhere but at her. Her answer to his next question would decide whether   
she died now or later. "I'll understand if you leave." He turned his back to her again.  
He could hear the bed squeak as she stood. He clenched his fists, 'She ain't gettin' out o' this   
apartment.'   
Victor felt a hand land lightly on his arm and visibly relaxed, playing the part until the very   
end. He couldn't bring himself to hug her. Instead, he let a sad smile tug at the corners of his   
mouth.  
"Go to sleep. I'll be here tomorrow."   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Okay so I know these last two chapter were very short. I'll try to to   
better when it comes to that. I tried to make up for taking so long and  
posting short chapters by posting two chapters this time.   
The nex part has someone special for Te. :)  
Visit the site. www.geocities.com/yellow_n_blue_2002/Aone.html  
  
  



	7. Part VII

Hello everyone. Me again, posting the seventh chapter. I really didn't think this fic would be this long. After I get it all posted I'll probably combine the smaller chapters. I plan to end this in two chapters or less, and then I'll post my next fic, which is almost finished itself. I promised myself I wouldn't post anymore "in progress" stories. It takes too much effort to finish them, whereas if I write it all before posting, I have motivation to finish it, and that's the anticipation of posting. 

Anyway, I just realized that I made Ororo a pickpocket in this fic while she's a car thief in Ultimate. I wanted this fic to be a prequel to the comic. So can y'all just ignore my lil' mistake please? Thank ya kindly. 

I know Victor is super chillin' (reiteration: not as crazy and wild and feral as he is in all other comics, cartoons, movies, fanfiction, etc.) in this fic. I'm really annoyed with that. 

That's it for the notes. The reason why I made them so long is because I loooove reading the messages from the authors at the beginnings and ends of fics. I know there is someone else out there like me. So these notes are for you. The rest of you can just skip them from now on. 

Part VII 

Ororo came home to an empty apartment. She tossed her jacket onto one of the bar stools, and flopped onto the ratty old couch, where she fell asleep. 

No more than twenty minutes later Victor turned his key in the door, and made a beeline for the bathroom. 

He went straight for the fully stocked fridge. That was another thing about life with the kid. 

She loved to shop. Be it in the mall, or at the grocery store. 

He grabbed a few sodas (she was only seventeen), and a bag of pork rinds, and sat down next to her on the couch. 

He turned on the tv and looked for something to watch. 

Twenty minutes later the television was tuned to Saturday Night Live, but Victor wasn't paying any attention to who or what it was Chris Katan was making fun of. 

In fact his back was to the television. 

He was standing over her clenching and unclenching his hands. 

She smelled like sweat -- like prey minus the fear. That combined with the sound of her heartbeat, and the way she looked laying there asleep was maddening. 

He didn't know if he wanted to jump her, or put his claws to use. 

So he'd do both. 

Ororo groggily opened her eyes at the sound of growling. 

"What? Was I snoring?" 

"..." 

"Victor?" 

"..." 

She sat up, "Victor, you're giving me the creeps." 

The growling stopped. 

"You were snoring, and you stink. Take a bath." She'd better, because she was about two and a half seconds away from discovering his real intentions. 

She grinned. 

"I'm serious." 

"Do I really smell that bad?" 

"Yeah." 

She crossed her hands over her chest putting a hand in each armpit, then pulled them out quickly and putting them to her nose. "I've smelled worse." 

He quelled his laughter to a smirk. He turned it into a sneer. 

"Don't be so stiff, Victor. I know you want to laugh." 

Victor turned and went into the bathroom. Ororo heard the sound of water running. 

He came back out to stand in front of her again. 

She angled her head to the side, curiously. 

"Do I have to force you?" He said after a minute. 

She smiled widely, and nodded quickly. 

Victor rolled his eyes, then bent down and tossed her over his shoulder, his arm secured over the backs of her knees. 

"Shit, Victor! I did not know you were actually going to force me!" She yelled through his back, kicking her legs. 

He kicked open the bathroom door, and dumped her in the tub, clothes and all. 

"That was a long fa-, " she was cut off when Victor pushed her head back under the water. She came up splashing and sputtering. 

"You jackass!" 

"Foul mouth." He leaned over her to grab a bottle of some kind of blue bath crap that she liked to use from the other side of the tub. He opened it and turned it upside down, squeezing it out and aiming for her mouth (which she'd let drop open with shock), but missing sometimes and getting it into her hair and in the water. 

He emptied the bottle onto a blue fluffy scrubber thing, and threw it at her. 

"Wash up, or do I have to force you to do that too." 

He left the bathroom with a self-satisfied smirk, shutting the door behind him. 

He sat back down. The sweaty trace of Ororo's scent was nothing compared to the strong stink of the couch. 

There was a light knock at the door. 

Victor went over to it carefully, and sniffed. 

He opened the door, "Remy." 

"Se que nouvelle, minet?" *What's new, pussycat?* 

"You wanna tell me what you want before I break your french-fried neck?" 

Remy threw up his hands, "No need for the hostility, mon ami." He slid by Victor, and hopped on a stool at the counter. "Is the food at that bar & grill on 'da corner any good?" 

Victor stalked over to him ready to make good on his threat. 

"I'm here to offer you a job." 

"What kind of job?" 

"Only the best for you, Vic. Lots of blood." 

"Lower your voice." 

"Why you got a fille in 'dere?" He asked gleefully, jumping off the counter, "Lemme see!" He stopped, then said uneasily, "Wait, she ain't chained up, or half-dead or nothin', is she?" 

"What's the job, Lebeau?" 

"Oh you gon' treat ol' Remy that way, henh?" He shrugged, "Sinister needs you to do some dirty work." 

"What's in it for me?" Victor asked into the can he was about to drink from. 

"Never thought you a Coke drinking man. I prefer Pepsi, myself." He stalled digging in to a bag of plain chips on the counter. 

Victor finished off the soda and crushed it threateningly. 

"He'll pay you his usual fee, and a large bonus." 

"No." 

Remy choked on the handful of chips he'd just put in his mouth. "No?" 

"No." 

"What do you mean 'No.'?" 

"Look, Lebeau. I don't need money. This frail steals all the money I need." 

"I can' just go back to him wit'out you. He requested you specifically." 

"Tough shit, kid. Get out." 

Remy hopped off of the stool, "I'll be back with Essex 's next offer." 

"Tell 'im if he don't make it good, I'm gonna kill his Cajun gofer." Victor slammed the door in his face. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to do the job (hell, he'd do it for free), but if he could satisfy his murderous urges and get something else out of it he would. 

By the time Ororo came out of the bathroom they were both hungry. 

She found the number for a pizza place, and dialed. 

"Who was at the door?" she asked, waiting for the phone to be answered. 

Victor answered her without so much as a stutter, "Solicitors." 

"What were they--Hello, I would like a medium pizza with mushrooms and peppers." 

Victor cleared his throat soundly. 

"Yes, that's all." She purposely ignored him. 

He suddenly went into a violent coughing fit. 

She rolled her eyes, "I'm sorry. No, that's not all. Give me an extra-large with sausage, pepperoni, ground beef, and any other meat topping you have." 

She gave the address and hung up. 

Twenty minutes later they sat in front of their separate boxes of pizza, eating in silence. 

After two slices Ororo closed her box and curled up into the one corner of the small couch, watching Victor swallow piece after piece. 

When he was down to his last piece he held it up by the crust, and offered it to her. 

"Thanks, but no thanks." 

He shrugged, muttering, "That's why yer so scrawny now." 

"What?" 

"You heard me." 

"I am not scrawny. I'm lean." 

"Oh, that's what you call it." 

"You Americans eat way too much, is all. So by comparison you think everyone else is starving." 

He closed his box, and eyed hers. "You gonna eat the rest of that?" 

"Take it." 


	8. Part VIII

please review 

  
Ororo cruised the highway towards her new home in Victor's '78 Mustang. He let her drive it whenever she wanted to. She couldn't imagine him driving it. A tall man like him needed a truck.  
She heard the familiar warning siren and glanced in her mirrors, "Shit." The speedometer read seventy- five mph, twenty miles over the speed limit.  
She pulled over and rolled down the window, digging through her coat pocket for her fake driver's license.  
Two plain clothes police officers got out, the driver was tall with long brown hair bound at his neck. He wore sunglasses, a bored grim expression, and a long brown duster that billowed out behind him over a white dress shirt, tie, and khaki pants. The other was Korean and looked like he might be a rookie. He was wearing the same thing as the taller officer without the duster. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to show off skinny arms. He took off his hat and one of his black leather gloves to frantically scratch his wild-greasy-haired head like he had fleas. He was nervous and fidgety.  
By the looks of things the taller cop was giving the other a command as they approached. He made a down-swiping motion with his hand as if telling him not to do something. The rookie seemed angry at being told what to do, but didn't say anything.  
"License and registration." The tall officer said routinely. He rested a hand on the hood of the car.  
Ororo handed him the card, and reached over to the glove compartment to look for the vehicle registration. She found it and gave it to him.  
Ororo glanced at the other younger officer who was glaring at the back of the older officer's head while crossing and uncrossing his arms, trying to look calm.  
He ignored her and showed his partner the license. The other policeman shook his head.  
"Turn the vehicle off and step out slowly. No sudden movements, and keep your hands where we can see them."  
Ororo put one hand on the wheel and the other on the key in the ignition, pretending to comply. She should have known there would be a problem. She wondered if she could shift gears and peel out quicker than the two could draw.  
"It's not worth the risk." She looked towards the officers and stared down the barrels of not one, not two, but three guns. The taller officer held two, and the smaller one was pulling his second.  
'Victor's going to kill me.'  
Ororo wasn't even going to try using her powers. Too many people could get hurt, including her.  
She turned off the mustang and got out placing her hands on the hood next to her license and registration.  
The small cop told her her rights while the taller patted her down, running his hands over her form.  
"You have the right to remain silent-"  
"Slow crime day?" Ororo asked.  
"Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law."  
"Shouldn't you two be out arresting some drug dealer?"  
"You have the right to an attorney..." He stopped, "uuuhh."  
Ororo turned her head to look at him.  
He leaned forward asking the older cop, "What comes next?"  
Before he could answer a standard blue and white police car pulled up in front of them. Two uniformed officers stepped out and headed their way.  
The taller officer turned away from Ororo and jerked his head at the rookie. The rookie came closer to her, and put a surprisingly strong, gloved hand on her shoulder, he grabbed her left wrist and pulled it up to the middle of her back threateningly, but only slightly painfully. The other officer went to meet the uniforms.  
"You two need some help?"  
"Do I look like Rodney King?" Ororo asked smartly. The tall cop chuckled, but the rookie squeezed her shoulder, and pulled up on her wrist, pushing her hard against the car.  
"Hey!" Ororo protested.  
He pulled up some more.  
She cried out and her eyes whited over and the now dark sky rumbled.  
All four cops looked up.  
"What's wrong with her eyes?" the other asked, drawing back, then gasping, "M-M-Mutie!" He started to back toward the police car, and then turned around and flat out ran to it.  
The rookie cop let go of her wrist and spun her around. He bit the glove off of his hand, holding it between his teeth, and touched her face with clammy fingers. The sky was quiet again, and Ororo began to feel weak and dizzy.  
She heard shots and a man's cry. She watched as one of the uniformed officers fell to the ground. Shot in the shoulder by the tall duster wearing officer.  
The other officer who had previously ran to the car came back holding a shotgun. He froze at the scene in front of him. Not knowing who to shoot.  
The rookie cop now let her go and joined the fray.  
Ororo clumsily tried to open the car door, but her coordination was completely thrown off.  
The two imposters simultaneously shot the cop. The tall one aiming for the shoulder, the rookie cop aimed for his forehead and hit his target.  
Ororo finally got the door open threw herself inside.  
The tall cop turned to the rookie. "That was not called for!" He shouted, his fake American accent melted away, revealing his true French accent, but Ororo was not paying attention. She was trying to sit up straight so she could pull off.  
"He was going to shoot us."  
"You had t'kill 'em?"  
The rookie shrugged, walking past him to pick up the shotgun.  
"I knew you were the wrong one to bring. I coulda' brough' Vertigo, or Arclight."  
While Remy ranted, Scrambler walked towards the mustang where Ororo had shut the door and was now trying to lock it, but she kept missing. It would have been funny to her if she wasn't such a mess.  
Scrambler snatched open the door while Remy disgustedly dragged the officers back to their vehicle and through them in. The one who had been shot in the shoulder was still alive, he was out, but he'd make it.  
  
Scrambler pulled Ororo out of the car by her hair and onto pavement. He was at his best now, and was more confident by far. He watched as she struggled against the dizziness that came with having your powers ripped away so quickly, and climbed to her feet using the mustang for leverage. His affect on her was weakening. He held the shot gun by the barrel, and slammed the butt into the back of her head. She slid down the car and slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.  
He wiped the blood off of the gun on his pant leg, and slung the shotgun over his shoulder.  
"Let's get her in the car."  
Remy shook his head. He knew what Scrambler was capable of but he never got used to the young man's cold-blooded ways. Remy was no saint, but getting what he wanted without having to hurt anyone was a part of the challenge.  
Scrambler had now grabbed Ororo by the hair and was dragging her to their "undercover police car".  
"Sabretooth best come rescue her soon or you'll batter her to death." Remy pushed his partner away and lifted her in his arms.  
"I ain't being paid to pamper this broad. She'll get what I give her."  
Remy placed her in the back of their car.  
"What now?"  
"Now we leave Victor a clue." Remy said getting behind the wheel of the Mustang.

**


	9. Part IX

Ororo woke with fingers on her chin, and forehead. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared into a bright penlight that made her head pound. Her mouth was being held open by the fingers. The light shut off and she stared into red eyes. They sat on a chalk-white face, over a pointed nose and square chin.

She felt strangely serene. She thought that maybe she should be worried, but that thought soon passed.

The man muttered something to himself about, about strong teeth, and turned his back to her.

She sat up slowly. She had been laying on a gurney in the middle of an office. The only other people in the room were the two from earlier. They were crouched in corners on opposite sides of the room.

The chalky man scribbled something in a tablet on the desk.

"Remy, take the mutant to a cell."

The longhaired man from earlier stood up reluctantly.

Ororo raised her eyebrows. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll be on my way. If you'll just show me the exit?" She swung her legs over the side of the gurney and stood up shakily.

"Scrambler, help him."

"I don' need his help." Remy said quickly.

Chalky skin ignored him and nodded at Scrambler.

Scrambler stood and approached Remy and Ororo.

"You stay here. I don't want you near me." Remy turned his back to him and opened the door for Ororo, and started to follow her out.

Scrambler angrily snapped off his gloves and reached for Remy's neck. Remy instinctively turned and slapped the younger man's hands away with his own gloved ones, and shoved his knuckles into his mouth.

**

It was late as hell, and she still hadn't come home. He tried to look unconcerned as he flipped through channels from the couch.

Turning the television off and tossing the remote on the cushion next to him, he stood up. He grabbed his unlit cigar off of the kitchen counter, and lit it on the stove. He could hear Ororo's voice in his head asking him to crack a window if he had to smoke, and decided he would just go outside and get fresh air.

**

Essex looked up from his desk to see two of his most competent workers rolling around on the floor fighting like cats and dogs. He pulled the sleeve back on his lab coat, pressing two of the buttons on the controller on his wrist.

Remy and Scrambler both rolled away from each other, clawing at their ears in agony.

Essex took his finger off of the buttons. The two young men stood shakily, and gave their full attention to their boss.

"I understand that even the best of you mess up at times. As you know, this is what will happen when you do. Now, go catch the girl."

The two raced out of the room and up the hallway.

**

Victor stopped dead in his tracks as he stepped out of the door and onto the front stoop of the apartment. The Mustang sat right in its usual place in front of the apartment building. He leaped down the steps and walked around the car sniffing and examining it.

If she left she would have taken the car for sure.

Spying something on the front seat he smashed the window and reached in.

Cards: An ace of hearts, a king of diamonds, and a queen of spades.

**

Ororo ran through the complex. She pushed open every door that might be an exit, which was most of them. Not long after she took off she heard running footsteps behind her. She was tiring quickly, but kept up her speed. She turned a hard right at the end of the hallway and began running through another long corridor. She looked back, Remy and Scrambler pursued with ferocity. They seemed to be racing each other. She pushed herself harder and faster and soon came to the end of that hallway, a dead end. Shrieking in frustration, she pushed open a door. It led to stairs, and she ran down them. The steps spiraled downward with a door on each landing.  
She didn't hear the sound of footsteps now, only a steady hollow boom...boom...boom.

It seemed to be getting closer every time. With a start she recognized it as the sound of someone jumping from one landing to another, but there was only one person. Where was the other one? Her stomach dropped as she realized that they knew the complex better than she did and the missing pursuer could be anywhere.

She came to the bottom floor and looked up before opening the door. A tall man, Remy stood at the landing above. He held out a hand and yelled, "Don't!" Before jumping down to her level. She yanked the door open, and stood face to face with Scrambler. He drove the fire extinguisher that he was holding into her chest. Ororo fell back into Remy's arms, and then to her knees. Scrambler smiled cattily at Remy and dropped the heavy object to the floor, "Dumb broad, she ran all the way down here to the dungeon, where we wanted her anyway."

Remy threw Ororo over his shoulder and carried her out of the door, and to one of the dingy cells, and lowered her to the cot. She sat up in the dirty dingy bed and scooted to the wall and into a corner.

He left the cell and locked it. He and Scrambler stood and stared at her for a while through the bars. She stared back angrily.

"I _should've_ locked you in dere too." He said to Scrambler with disgust.

"Too bad you were too big a pussy. I would have enjoyed that."

**

Victor sped to where he knew Sinister was hidden. Heaven helps anyone who got in his way, including the police. He was practically foaming at the mouth. Essex was going too far. Ororo belonged to him.

Oh, and he was going to fuck Remy up. That card shit was real cute. The king was Sinister, the queen -- Ororo, and the ace was Remy himself. Vic was pretty sure that Remy wouldn't have done this alone. He wondered who the accomplice was. Vert? Riptide? Scrambler? If it was Scrambler everyone was in for an extra ass whipping. That kid was capable of anything.

**

Ororo listened to the still air in the dungeon. She was alone down there, finally.

She removed one of her earrings and reached through the bars, and around to the padlock. She moved the earring around stealthily and soon felt the lock pop open.

After removing the clinking chain she pushed open the cage like door and locked it back.

Taking one final glance around the dungeon like basement, she ran back the way she'd come, taking the stairs back up to what she assumed was the main level.

It was time to put the skills she'd gained as a thief to the test.

Her senses went on hyper drive, sticking close to the wall, and slowing her breath.

She heard voices floating from a room a few doors down from where she stood. She approached slowly, crouching low in order to avoid being seen.

The man she knew as Essex stood face to face with Remy. Essex's face showed no emotion as Remy spoke to him, obviously trying not to raise his voice at his boss.

"He not gon' come in here ready t'work. Sabertooth is gonna be angry, and who ya' think he's gonna come after first?"

"You have _nothing_ to worry about, Remy."

"You 'ave a plan?"

"You sound surprised."

Remy stared at Sinister waiting for him to continue.

"I've just mixed up a batch of Victor's special tranquilizer. While he is unconscious, we can restrain him, and affix the new and improved control device to his brain."

"And the girl?" Remy lifted an eyebrow. Ororo's eyes widened at that.

"The girl…is most definitely a mutant," There was a far away gleam in Essex's eye, he seemed to be staring into the future. "with powers, I believe, can grow to be unmatched. After the situation with Victor is under control we will begin testing and cloning processes on the mutant girl. Remind me to find --"

Suddenly Sinister stopped speaking. His black eyes narrowed and his face whipped around to look at the space Ororo had occupied moments before. He jerked his head in the door's direction.

Remy checked the hallway, but Ororo was gone.

**

He almost through the car door off of it's hinges, it suffered more abuse when he slammed it shut, shattering the window.

The door into the complex was a simple metal panel with no handle, only a small sliding window for identification.

Victor used his claws and strength to pry the door panel out of the brick wall. A rush of warm air brought familiar scents out to him.

Tossing the twisted metal aside he stepped through hole.

Sinister was there to greet him with Scrambler by his side. That rat, Remy, was nowhere in sight. Scrambler lunged for him, catching a swift elbow to the chin.

Victor prowled over to Sinister, ignoring Scrambler, who was getting up, preparing for round two.

Before the blink of an eye, he had the scientist in a chokehold on the floor, the mad doctor's body hanging limply between Victor's knees.

Sinister didn't even begin to panic when he couldn't reach the syringe of tranquillising fluid in his lab coat pocket. He simply let Victor carry on with his tantrum, waiting for one of his workers to come to his rescue.

**

"I hate to be this way toward a woman, ma petite, but dis is how it has t' be," Remy said as he forced Ororo down the hall at knifepoint.

He took her to the front hall, surprised to see that Sabertooth had arrived so soon, and that he seemed to have gotten the best of Sinister. Scrambler was helplessly staring at the sight. Ororo breathlessly gasped Victor's name. Victor heard it. He looked up and his eyes flicked from Ororo to Remy. He released his hold on Sinister, standing up and kicking him in the stomach across the floor.

He stalked toward Remy and Ororo. Remy stood his ground, all the while knowing that he wouldn't kill Ororo with the knife. Scrambler grabbed the knife from Remy and held it to Ororo's neck. Victor hesitated for only a second. Scrambler backed away as he came closer. Soon he hit the wall and couldn't go any further. Victor still approached.

Ororo had her eyes shut, impatiently waiting for it all to be over. Her eyes opened when the pressure of the blade was released from her throat. Victor stood in front of her and the long knife that had once been at her throat was lodged in his chest.

"Victor!" She screamed and tried to run forward, but Scrambler still had a hold on her. All she could do was stare in horror at the knife in Victor's chest. He took three deep breaths, and on the third he wrapped his hands around the handle and yanked it out. The wet sound of veins, skin, and bone healing was enough to ball your stomach in a knot. Not to mention the sight. Ororo's horror melted into puzzlement, then realization, and then horror again, as she thought back to that night months ago in the hotel room:

_*Her attacker had pulled the blade out with his teeth. Although it had been dark Ororo could still see Victor's shoulder heal by moonlight._

_Victor._

_Victor._

_VICTOR!*_

Ororo could only stand frozen and watch as Victor tore the room and the people in it apart. Those memories from a few months ago looped before her eyes, each time they replayed themselves, it seemed they became more detailed.

She was knocked out of her stupor when a limp Essex skidded to the ground in front of her. His once crisp white lab coat was now blood stained, and ripped.

The mysterious Remy was gone, though not without a little punishment from Victor.

Seeing the man she was once so fond of beating the hell out of the small but vicious Scrambler brought upon her more memories. The first, of when Victor choked her, after she was brought home by the police officer. The second have when she'd waken up to see him standing over her.

He had come here to rescue her, but what would happen when they got back home?

_'No,_' she thought. That was not her home.

What did Victor have in mind that night at the hotel, and how long until he finished her off? She was hyperventilating.

Knowing that she had to get into control, she closed her eyes, lowered her head, and took a few deep breaths.

'_How would I fight off a man, a beast, as strong as Victor_.' she wondered. '_Outsmart him, but how. His sense of smell almost lets him read your mind.'_

"Goddess, help me." It was the first time she'd called on her Goddess in a very long time.

She opened her eyes starting at the sight of Essex's body, but remembering that it had landed there a minute earlier.

As if on cue, the syringe rolled out of the lab coat pocket. She immediately recalled the conversation she had heard between Essex and Remy.

Ororo quickly decided that she would have a talk with her Goddess if she lived through this.

She picked up the syringe and dropped it in her denim jacket pocket.

Soon Victor had finished, and after trashing the room, he scooped Ororo into his arms and silently carried her out of the facility. A strangely gentle action for someone who'd just finished ripping new assholes for a few grown men.

**

The ride home was quiet and tense. On Ororo, Victor smelled what he thought was lingering fear after being imprisoned by that freak, Sinister. He gave her a sideways glance, couldn't really read her expression, and spared a full on glance. She sat straight as a board. Her face tense and pensive.

"Ro?" He reached over and pushed her hair out of her face. She flinched, "Relax." She sank back against the seat and took a deep breath. She seemed to mellow visually, but terror was rolling off of her in waves.

It wasn't long before Victor parked in front of the apartment building.

In the apartment, Ororo collapsed onto the couch as Victor scrubbed dried blood from his hands. She tried not to think about him coming home every night and doing the same thing he was doing now. She kept one hand in her pocket with a firm grasp on the syringe. She just wanted to sleep. If she hadn't seen Victor's wound heal with her own eyes she would never believe it. Except for that one time, he had been nothing less than giving, protective and wonderful since the day he brought her to his place. She wondered what would happen if she just pretended she didn't see what she saw, and continued to stay with him. He didn't seem to know that she knew. She fell asleep with her thoughts and soon Victor came out of the bathroom. He approached Ororo as he dried his hands on a towel.

He scooped her in his arms again, and carried her to the bedroom. He pulled down the sheets and placed her on the bed. He started with her black boots and socks, slowly unlacing them and tossing them into a corner with the rest of her shoes. In the short duration of time she had been staying with Victor she had acquired quite a wardrobe.

He pulled off her jeans next. Unfastening them at the top, then pulling them all the way off by the cuffs at the bottom, lavender panties, bikinis.

Victor noticed that when he took off her denim jacket she watched where he put it. She seemed okay with him dropping it on the floor next to the bed, next to her jeans. Maybe because it was one of the few things that she'd had when she came.

He smirked at the thought of her matching her underwear and outfit, for her shirt was lavender too.

Victor pulled the covers up around her than left the room to get a beer and grab some couch. It took a long time for him to fall asleep, but when he did he was awaken by a short cry, and a clap of thunder. He shook the remains of sleep from himself and stretched. Grabbing his beer bottle off of the coffee table, he headed for the back of the apartment.

He opened the bedroom door; Ororo was shrugging into her jacket, and stepping into her boots. She had already gotten on her jeans.

"Bad dream, Ororo?"

She jumped, "Stay back!"

He took a few steps in her direction, holding out his empty hand in a gesture of concern.

His thick eyebrows knitted in slight confusion, "Ororo? What the hell?" 

"Don't come any closer!" She was fully dressed now.

"Calm down, Ororo. What's wrong with you?

"What's wrong with me? You were in my room in Jersey! You were going to kill me!"

Victor stopped, "What?"

"You heard me, Victor. How did you find me in that bar? How long did I have here until you were going to murder me?"

'_She knows._' he thought. He flashed his fangs in anger and disappointment, '_Honeymoon's over_.' It would have been impossible for him not to become a little attached. What was _not_ to like about her? Victor was a murderer and a psychopath, but he didn't have to lie to himself, if ever there was a frail he didn't mind having around, it was Ororo. However, he was a psychopathic murderer, and the urges were simply too strong to ignore. After all, he'd been looking forward to this since the day he met her.

Victor sat the bottle on the edge of the dresser.

"Well, Ro, I guess you're just to smart for me. Sometime during the day's events you caught a detail that I didn't cover up." He approached her slowly.

"You gotta admit though, it wasn't that smart of you to out me when you had no escape planned." He leaned in close to her ear and snarled, "You're long overdue for this." He put his hands on her shoulders and dug in his claws. When she cried out he gritted his teeth, and drove her into the wall.

He expected her to punch him, maybe scream, kick, or even bite. What he hadn't expected was for her to stick a needle in his neck.

Whatever she had drugged him with was taking its effect quickly. She broke away from him, and Victor put his strongest effort into getting a hold of her, but his best attempt only left him clumsily grabbing air.

He stumbled to the doorway and braced himself in the door jam. He yelled something-incomprehensible even to himself. She looked back as she twisted his set of keys in the door, pulling it open and running down the hallway. Victor knew he would never catch her in the state he was in. Instead of chasing her he went, sluggishly crawling, to the window in the bedroom overlooking the street below. Ororo was running from the building to the Mustang across the street. When she glimpsed up at the window, she looked him dead in the eye. At times she'd look at him and her eyes were warm electric blue, and carrying a certain spark. Now, as he held her gaze her eyes were like ice and cold as steel.

Victor swore that there was a flash of lightening and she was gone. That was merely his imagination for he hadn't stayed conscious long enough to see her pull off, she had sat in the car for minutes before driving away.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue  

Ororo rode west in the Mustang in silent determination to get as far away from Victor as possible. The wind that rushed in through the broken window on the driver's side was making her eyes tear. She wished she knew how to make her eyes wax over, without using her powers. It was her fourth day on the road. She didn't know how many times she'd filled the tank, or what time it was. She focused on keeping her mind clear, and staying close to the speed limit.

Earlier, she'd stopped at a rest stop. She had changed into the clothes she had gotten at the mall earlier the day she was kidnapped. Lucky for her she'd never gotten a chance to bring in her bags. Since it was a lot hotter out west, she had changed into a cut-off Knicks jersey, and threw on a hooded vest 

The sun was setting now, and she smiled as she read the next sign:   
_Welcome To Texas, Where Everything's Bigger._  
 End  


Okay so I could have done better. I got really really tired of writing this fic. I'm sorry. Thanks to all of those who R/R. I really appreciate it. Also thanks to Vaberella for the beta. :) Review, please. 


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